Last Chance Christmas (2 page)

Unlike her, he certainly didn’t appear injured. At six-foot-four, he loomed over with an abundance of muscle. His face had acquired more character since she’d seen him last—a scar through one eyebrow, another crook in his nose and a thin white line that slashed through the bottom of his lower lip. But none of that took away from his innate attractiveness. He still wore his dark hair a little too long and spilling out of the back of knit ski cap. Strong features anchored by high cheekbones and a heavy slash of dark eyebrows were offset by a soft, sensual mouth that smiled or frowned easily.

“The league’s getting tough on concussion treatment,” he explained, his brow furrowed as he leaned closer and brushed snow off her poncho with one Gore-Tex glove. “The team doctor referred me to a specialist in Burlington that I’ve seen in the past, so I’m staying up here for a few weeks to work with him.”

“You don’t need to travel with the team?” She almost fell over again from that bit of shocking news. Both her father and uncles had played in the NHL back in their prime and they’d barely gotten a night off after a hard hit, let alone a respite from the team’s rigorous travel schedule.

Not to mention, J.C.’s team was based in Chicago—far from this little corner of the world. That was one of the reasons she’d risked driving up here. She’d never guessed he would be visiting their hometown this Christmas, too. She couldn’t be in Cloud Spin for twenty-four hours without running into half the population.

“There’s been too much concussion research and too many lawsuits for them not to adjust their stance on treatment.” He stared at her for a long moment and they were both so still the motion-detector lamp turned off, casting them in darkness while the snow fell softly all around them.

The flakes made the tiniest of sounds as they floated past her ear to land on her shoulder, am almost imperceptible rush of air, while she wondered if he was okay. If his brain would recover from all the hits he’d taken over the years. Her father still battled severe headaches, and he’d been away from the game for twenty years after a career that ended early due to injury.

One of many reasons she’d once hoped J.C. would choose another path.

“But I’m not so concussed that I don’t remember I asked you a question first,” J.C. pointed out when she made no reply. “What’s with the crutches? And what are you doing out here alone in the dark?”

He craned his neck, she realized, to get a view of the driveway. To see if she really was alone? Or had he been expecting someone else?

“I had a collision with a delivery van a few weeks ago.” She tried to look past him down the hill where her father’s ice rink resided. “Since I’m not working right now, I drove up to spend the holidays with Mom and Dad.” She sure wasn’t going to admit her life had fallen apart, and she’d been following the advice of a life coach with a popular call-in show. That she’d driven all that way in the snow because she craved a hug from her mom. “Are they down on the ice?”

“No one’s here but me, Shea. I told your father I’d try recreating the rink this winter since he hasn’t done it the last two years.”

She frowned. She hadn’t known that. And it bothered her to think that J.C. Royce had a better relationship with her family than she did, although why should she be surprised? Part of her own rift with her parents had been her frustration with all things hockey and her father still ran a school and coached youth teams.

Her father had also urged J.C. to enter the NHL draft early, knowing full well Shea had hoped for a different life for them. Even then, her father had sided with J.C. over his own daughter. And J.C. hadn’t bothered to mention it. She’d overheard the news at the pizza parlor when a group of guys watching the draft on TV had gone nuts to see a local kid’s name called.

“So, where’s Dad?” she asked, her patience wearing thin and the last remains of her energy draining away in the frigid cold.

She’d left her hat and gloves in the car, never picturing this strange scenario for her homecoming.

J.C. shifted, shoving his fists into the pockets of his ski jacket. “I drove them into Burlington for a flight out this morning. They’re spending Christmas in Hawaii.”

‡

J
.C. Royce might
still be experiencing occasional concussion symptoms, but hallucinating was not one of them.

Thank you, God
.

Because he would have been extremely disappointed to blink and find the luscious and enticing form of Shea Walker had been just a figment of his imagination.

But no. After long last, he not only had her in his sights, she also was fairly powerless to get away. Call him a first class ass to think it, but he needed that kind of handicap with a woman who’d always been ten steps ahead of him.

A woman who, right now, did not look pleased. She arched a disbelieving eyebrow, wearing an expression not unlike the one she’d used on him when he told her he was going to accept an invitation to training camp in Minnesota instead of applying to colleges in New York. She’d seen it as a betrayal, and maybe it had been. His loyalties had been divided and he’d known it wasn’t fair to make her give up her dream for his. He’d thought breaking it off would be easier on her given all the reasons she had to resent the sport he loved.

“Hawaii?” She made it sound about as appealing as Siberia in the winter. “For Christmas?”

He laughed. “I know. I couldn’t picture your old man sipping fruity drinks and wearing a lei this time of year either.”

Walt Walker had been J.C.’s coach as a peewee player, but those formative years had only been a minor part of the man’s influence on J.C.’s game. As a former defenseman in the NHL, Walt had been an early hero for him, along with the rest of the Walker brothers. The family was the stuff of hockey legend, right down to the backyard rink where good natured brawling was as much a tradition as midnight cookouts around a bonfire, all of which appealed to a rambunctious kid living in a household with a single, overworked mom.

Of course, his coach’s daughter may have been some of the appeal of the Walker household, too. And Shea had grown up every bit as tempting as he would have guessed from the last time he’d seen her—the summer after his high school graduation, right before he left for his training camp after getting drafted straight into the NHL.

She’d been off-limits for anything too serious by then because of their age difference, but it hadn’t taken a genius to know she was furious with him for bailing on old plans they’d made for her to follow him to a college in New York. She’d barely spoken to him after his first visit to the Minnesota camp.

But all that was ancient history.

“Uncle Will must have a key to the house.” Shea hopped on one foot to turn around. “I’ll take a ride over there.”

“Hey!” He reached to steady her. “It’s slippery. Let me give you a hand before you fall again.” He started to dip a shoulder under one arm so she could lean on him but she shook her head and bit her lip.

“Can’t do it. Broken ribs on that side.” Her long, red hair spilled over one shoulder in a loose ponytail, the ends getting wet from the snow.

“Damn, lady. You did a number on yourself.” He sidestepped his way around her. “How about I get this side?”

“I’ll be fine.” She shook him off with a stubbornness he remembered well, a fierceness she’d brought to her own game back when she’d played ice hockey, too.

He ignored her, gently circling her shoulders with one arm. “Your father would have my ass if anything happened to you while I was standing right next to you and you know it.”

“Can’t disappoint coach, can we?” she muttered darkly, grudgingly leaning into him as she gave up one crutch to him.

“How come you don’t have a key to the house? I don’t think your Uncle Will is in town for the holidays either.” He liked the way she smelled. Even in the cold, crisp air he caught the fragrance of her hair or her soap…something fruity and feminine.

He liked the way she felt against him, too. Even through his ski parka and her wool poncho, he got an armful of gentle curves.

“Since when do Walkers leave Cloud Spin in December?” she groused. “Santa may as well call off Christmas, too. Doesn’t Wassail Weekend start tomorrow?”

As they neared her car, he realized she was unsteady on her feet. Maybe she was just tired from the drive, but he sure wasn’t ready to let her drive herself around town without a plan for where to spend the night. Besides, he couldn’t just give her up to her vehicle after not seeing her for ten years.

“I have it on good authority that Christmas is definitely still happening. And Wassail Weekend.” Although he’d had zero interest in either until now. He leaned her crutch against the small silver compact she was driving while she dug a set of keys out of a pocket in the poncho.

“Is that right?” She blinked up at him through the falling snowflakes.

“Definitely.” Hell, just seeing Shea Walker felt like a present. “You need to stick around town and enjoy it. Just like old times.” He had some good memories here.

Some of his favorite ones had her in them. From the year when they’d dated, but even before then.

“Maybe.” She peered up at the old Colonial home. “But Mom and Dad’s house doesn’t even have a bedroom set up in the downstairs. I was thinking with my mother’s help, I’d be fine. But on my own…”

Shaking her head, she hit the unlock button on the key fob.

“Hell, no. You definitely shouldn’t stay by yourself.” He wouldn’t let her leave Cloud Spin tonight. No way. No how. “Why don’t I drive you into town? We could have a drink or grab some dinner at the Peaks Grill. If either of your uncles is around, they’ll probably still be there on a Friday night.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” She checked her watch. “But don’t let me interrupt your plans. I can head over there. I’m sure I’ll find someone I know.”

“You’re not interrupting anything.” He opened the back door of the car and slid in both her crutches. “I was heading into town tonight anyhow, and since I skied over here from my place, I could use a ride.” He opened the passenger door. “But give yourself a break and let me drive. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

He’d been cleared to drive for the past ten days, although he was supposed to keep his stints behind the wheel to short trips. Since Peak’s was only five miles away, he was fine.

“I would argue this if I wasn’t cross-eyed from ten hours on the road already.” Shea gripped the edge of the passenger seat and carefully lowered herself inside the car. “And I have no idea why you’re being so nice.”

“I’m a nice guy.” He didn’t want to cross swords with her. He still couldn’t believe she was here. Getting into a car with him. “It took you that long from the city?” He knew she’d made her home there after attending fashion design school. But then, he got regular updates from her father since he kept in touch with the Walkers.

She was some kind of big deal fashion buyer now for a major high-end department store, a job that sent her all over the world. Driven and determined as she’d always been, it didn’t surprise him one bit that she’d done everything she’d set out to. At least giving her up had some kind of positive outcome.

“Longer, actually. It was a blur of snow. I think it hypnotized me after a while.” She leaned back in the seat and he flipped up the edge of her poncho so it wouldn’t get caught in the car door. “And we both know it’s been a long time since you’ve been nice to
me
.”

He wanted to help her with her seat belt, but she had that wary, don’t-mess-with-me look back in her gray eyes. He could see her better now with the dome light on overhead.

“I think there’s a statute of limitations on holding a grudge.” He remained where he was, crouched down beside her so they were eye to eye.

His gaze travelled over features that had been so familiar to him as a kid—and later, for one incredible summer—as so much more. The dimple in her right cheek wasn’t as prominent these days, but he caught a hint of it when she grinned.

“I’m keeping my options open.”

“I hope you do.” He had one particular option he wanted her to consider this week. “It’s the holiday season. The time for forgiving. Peace on earth and all that.”

He’d had a hellish year, and after recovering emotionally from his divorce, he’d headed into the hockey season only to take a hard hit that had sidelined him for almost a month already with no timetable for his return. His old mentor, her father, had probably only invited him to work on that ice rink in order to give him something to do since J.C. had been in a dark place these last weeks. Seeing Shea felt like the first good thing that had happened to him in a long time.

“I don’t know about forgiveness, but I’d take a beer while I figure out what to do next.”

“Can I get that for you?” He pointed toward her seat belt that she hadn’t buckled yet, thinking about how much it must hurt to twist her torso. At her nod, he pulled it carefully around her to secure it. Forcing himself to ease back again—not touching her—he kept a steady gaze on her. “I’ll take you for that beer. And I’d like to drive you wherever you want to go tonight as long as it’s somewhere in Cloud Spin. Because, and maybe it’s just the concussion talking, but seeing you right now feels like it was meant to be.”